


i'm just trying to keep this together (i could do worse and you could do better)

by expectopatronuz



Series: fangirl au [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Break Up, M/M, Prequel, fangirl au, or as himym says: friends getting back together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expectopatronuz/pseuds/expectopatronuz
Summary: “I haven’t talked to the Clifford’s yet, can you let Michael know that dinner on Christmas Eve starts at 6?”“No,” he says, bitterly. He should have texted her, should have done this when he could get some space. He should have done this anywhere but the parking lot of their local family-owned grocery store, where everyone has always known him and everyone has always known Michael and everyone has always known them as together.“Why not?” she asks.“Because he broke up with me.”or, a Fangirl au prequel
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Series: fangirl au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925728
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	i'm just trying to keep this together (i could do worse and you could do better)

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe that i wrote most of this MONTHS ago and forgot about it unitl i was talking to [em](https://pixiegrl.tumblr.com/) and she reminded me? i mean, it's pretty on brand for me, not going to lie. i have so many people to thank, em, of course, for being the most relentlessly supportive friend, who listens to my every dumb thought about every fic i write, who is so talented and lovely and amazing. thank you to [bella](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) for inspiring me every day and for being the champion of this universe! this prequel would not exist without your enthusiasm. to [em](https://jbhmalum.tumblr.com/), my fellow french speaker, for loving this au more than i do and for saying such kind things about it all the time. to everyone else in the club for being beacons of light when i so desperately need them, and to everyone who has read the fangirl au. it is very close to my heart, and it makes me so unbelievably happy to know that other people enjoy it too.
> 
> title is from [beside you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ0z1LH6RJc) by marianas trench! come talk to me on [tumblr](https://calumsclifford.tumblr.com/), i love discussing fic and this au in particular! i also have a [fangirl au tag](https://calumsclifford.tumblr.com/tagged/fangirl-au) where i sometimes post drabbles or blurbs set in the universe!

Ashton and Michael have been lying on opposite ends of the couch, legs tangled, in Ashton’s basement all night, passing Michael’s iPod Touch back and forth as they show each other quotes from shows and songs.

They’re both fourteen, and it’s Valentines Day.

“Are we pathetic?” Ashton asks after he stumbles upon a particularly soppy quote from _Grey’s Anatomy_ , a show he doesn’t even watch.

Michael snorts. “What else is there to do?”

“Find dates, maybe?”

Michael snorts again. “Like who? Everyone in our grade sucks.”

“Everyone in our town, more like,” Ashton says, bumps Michael’s knee with his. “Present company excluded?”

“Present company especially,” Michael laughs, then Ashton’s mom is opening the door to the basement and calling down.

“Michael, your dad is here!”

“We’re coming,” Ashton screams back. “Get up,” he says to Michael, bumping his leg again.

“You get up.”

“I always get up first,” Ashton whines, but starts detangling their legs and sits.

“Exactly, I don’t want to break tradition.”

They climb the stairs and Ashton walks Michael to the door. Michael’s dad and Ashton’s mom are laughing about something, so Ashton ignores them. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We’re going to talk on Facebook when I get home, I don’t know why you’re pretending we won’t.”

“Be cool,” Ashton says, nodding towards his mom. Michael just rolls his eyes.

“Come on, dad. Ashton’s annoying me.”

His dad laughs. “No one forced you to come over.”

“You did, you forced me to come here all the time when we were toddlers and now I’m stuck.”

“Hey,” Ashton says. “If it weren’t for them, you’d have no friends.”

“If it weren’t for them, I’d be popular because I wouldn’t have you dragging me down,” Michael says, and they all laugh, because there are only 12 other kids in their year, so no one is popular.

“Alright, come on,” Michael’s dad says. Michael waves and smiles as he walks out the door after his dad, and Ashton shuts it behind him. He turns and his mom is staring at him, giving him a strange, knowing look.

“What?” he says.

“Don’t you ever break that boy’s heart, Ashton,” she says, and he shakes his head.

“He’s my best friend.”

“I know,” she says, then sighs. “Lock up for me?”

“Sure,” Ashton says, and she turns and heads to her bedroom. After the doors are all locked and the lights are off, Ashton goes into his bedroom and starts up his laptop under the covers so that his mom won’t see the light under the door.

Ashton’s only been home from his first term at college for about two hours before his mom is corralling him in to drive her to the grocery store.

He’s eighteen, and didn’t come home for Thanksgiving, too worried about his grades, and now he regrets it. His sister has sprouted up like a weed and his brother’s completely changed his taste in music, and Ashton’s missed it.

Plus, now, he’s sullen and quiet, and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to be home.

His mom talks in the car, keeping up a steady stream of small-town gossip. If she’s noticed that he’s not saying a word, she doesn’t show it.

“Oh,” she says, just as they’re pulling into the parking lot, “I haven’t talked to the Clifford’s yet, can you let Michael know that dinner on Christmas Eve starts at 6?”

“No,” he says, bitterly. He should have texted her, should have done this when he could get some space. He should have done this anywhere but the parking lot of their local family-owned grocery store, where everyone has always known him and everyone has always known Michael and everyone has always known them as _together_.

“Why not?” she asks.

“Because he broke up with me,” Ashton says.

“ _What_?” his mom gasps. “When? Why?”

Ashton doesn’t answer. Ashton just bends over and lets his forehead hit the steering wheel, crying for the first time since it happened, in the fucking parking lot of the local family-owned grocery store.

Ashton and Michael are watching a movie. It’s some loud action movie that neither of them cares about.

It’s summer break, and Ashton is almost sixteen. Michael is stretched out in his bed, and Ashton is sitting cross legged by his feet.

“Hey, Michael?” Ashton says, and Michael props himself up a little higher.

“What?”

“Who was your first kiss?”

Michael laughs. “You, you dumbass. Why? Who was yours?”

“You,” Ashton says softly. They’d been thirteen at the time, and they’d been cuddling like most friends probably don’t while watching a stupid action movie, not unlike the one they’re watching now. Michael had snorted an unattractive laugh, and Ashton had tilted his head to look at him, planned to say something mocking. Instead, he’d found Michael’s nose brushing his, saw Michael’s eyelashes flutter as he blinked, slow and deliberate. They’d leaned together without thinking, without preamble.

“Is that a problem?” Michael asks, and Ashton shakes his head.

“Not for me.”

“Not for me, either,” Michael says, turns back to the movie.

“Do you ever think about it?” Ashton asks, Michael shrugs, keeps his eyes on the screen.

“All the time.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ash.”

“Why?”

Michael turns back, incredulous. “Because I’m in love with you, obviously.”

“You are?”

“I mean, I thought it was obvious,” Michael says. He seems unbothered, unconcerned.

“I didn’t know,” Ashton says quietly. Michael shrugs and they turn back to the movie for a few minutes, while Ashton tries to rearrange the memories in this new context. “I think about that kiss a lot,” he says after a while. “I think about it all the time. I think about doing it again.”

“You can, if you want to,” Michael says. “I’d like that.”

“I don’t know if it means what it’s supposed to mean,” Ashton worries.

“It just means what it means,” Michael says, like it’s easy.

“How do we know what that is?”

“We just see how it feels. We just know.”

Ashton stares at him for a long moment. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, it means what it means. Can I kiss you?” Ashton asks, and Michael huffs a laugh.

“Yes, you can kiss me,” Michael says, so he does.

They’re boyfriends before the end of the week.

Ashton and Michael are sitting next to each other on Michael’s dorm room bed. There’s a foot of space between them, and they’re both sitting straight, feet firmly on the floor.

They’re eighteen, and Ashton is pretty sure that Michael is about to ruin his life.

“You wanted to talk?” Michael asks, stiffly.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls,” Ashton says. “I want to talk in general, not like, specifically.”

Michael sighs heavily. “I think we should break up,” Michael says.

Ashton isn’t surprised, necessarily. Michael’s been withdrawn for weeks, brushing him off, cancelling plans. He’s not surprised, but it still hurts like nothing ever has. “Why?” Ashton asks.

Michael is quiet for a long moment, and Ashton knows before he even opens his mouth. “I cheated on you. I’m sorry.”

“With who?”

“Some girl at an engineering frat party I went to last month.”

“How far?”

“We made out, but that’s it.” 

“How many times?”

“Just once.”

Ashton takes a long breath. “Okay. That sucks. That was shitty, but it’s alright. You just made out, and it didn’t mean anything. We don’t have to break up.”

“Ashton—” Michael sighs.

“No, no. Don’t _Ashton_ me. You made one mistake, we can get past this.”

“It’s – it’s more complicated than that.”

“Do you love me?” Ashton asks. Michael looks down at the ground. “Michael, do you still love me?”

“Yes, fuck. Of course I still love you.”

“Okay, I still love you too. We don’t need to break up.”

“Ashton,” Michael says, voice harder, but Ashton can tell that it’s just because he’s trying to keep a straight face. “This isn’t a discussion, there’s nothing to fix. We’re breaking up.”

“Why, though? We love each other. We’re in love. We’ve always been in love. One mistake doesn’t change that,” Ashton says.

“It does,” Michael says.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“It does, because it felt better to make out with a random girl at a party than it does to be around you,” Michael says, even and matter-of-fact, but it crushes Ashton in his soul.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“We’re not working, Ashton. Not anymore.”

“We can though,” Ashton says. “We need to talk about this.”

“I don’t know what there is to say.”

“We can figure out why you don’t feel good around me, and work through it—”

“No,” Michael says. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Ashton stares at him in disbelief. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Michael says.

“Fine, alright. Fine,” Ashton says, stands and storms right out of the room. Michael doesn’t call after him, and Ashton doesn’t cry.

Ashton’s just passed his drivers test, and he’s taking Michael out in his truck.

Ashton is sixteen, and Michael is staring at him like he’s an alien. “I’m supposed to be seen with you in this piece of crap?”

“Hey,” Ashton says, rubs the hood of the truck lovingly. “She does her best.”

“I will not get into that thing.”

“Do you want to go on this date, or not?”

“This is supposed to be a date?” Michael says. “If I’d known this was a date, I’d have dressed up a little, or something.

“We’re going for dinner just the two of us, why wouldn’t it be a date?”

“Because it’s the truck stop diner,” Michael says.

“It’s the only restaurant in town! You love the diner!”

“Yeah, but we always go there. It’s not like, a date spot.”

“Well, we’re dating, and we’re going there alone, and I’m driving you, so it’s a date spot,” Ashton says.

“You’re not driving me to our first date in that truck,” Michael says, but he’s smiling.

“Oh, I’m driving you to our first date in this truck. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll eventually lose your virginity in this truck.”

“I am not losing my virginity in a truck,” Michael laughs, and finally climbs up into the passenger seat.

“We’re small-town trash, we have to do it for the first time in an old truck. It’s a law of nature,” Ashton says, raising his voice as he gets into the driver’s seat.

“We are not small-town trash,” Michael says. Ashton starts driving, and Michael’s mom waves from the window. “We’re going to go to college, and we’re going to be really good at it, and we’re going to get big city jobs and be cool city people.”

“You have a country drawl, you’ll never be a cool city person.”

“I do _not_ ,” Michael says, but he does. Barely – it only comes out when he’s either really angry or really tired, but it’s there.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

“No, you cannot call me that. We are not small-town trash,” Michael says.

“I am proud small-town trash, thank you very much, sweetheart,” Ashton laughs.

“Fuck you,” Michael says, but Ashton can hear the smile in his voice.

Ashton is sitting in his childhood bedroom, and it’s his first Christmas Eve without Michael.

He’s eighteen, and he doesn’t know where to go from here.

He’s been calling Michael for a couple of hours, now. His brother and sister are in bed and he can hear his mom wrapping presents at the dining table.

It’s late, but that’s never stopped Ashton and Michael before. They used to stay up most of the night messaging on Facebook or texting, sending each other songs and memes and talking about the future.

It’s nearing midnight when Michael finally answers with an annoyed “what?”

Ashton had been mad when he’d first decided to call, and he should still be mad, he should be furious that after everything, Michael can’t even be pleasant on the phone. But Michael’s never been pleasant on the phone, answers like the act physically pains him every time, and all of Ashton’s anger evaporates. Everything he’s been stewing in, everything he’d planned to say, all gone.

Instead, he thinks about how big Michael is in his mind, how much space he’s always occupied. Ashton has never done anything without Michael. All of his defining moments, every single first he’s ever had, every memory is shared.

“It’s not fair,” Ashton says.

Michael sighs. “I know.”

“We were meant to make it,” Ashton continues, even though Michael already knows.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says. “I wish things were different.”

“They could have been. You chose this. You could have tried.”

“I tried for a long time,” Michael says.

“But you didn’t try with me,” Ashton says, and realizes, horribly, that he’s tearing up. He hadn’t cried during the breakup, he’s only cried the once, in the car. But here he is, crying, and he doesn’t think he can hide it from Michael. “You could have talked to me, we’ve always talked to each other.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“You don’t know that,” Ashton says.

Michael is quiet for a moment. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“We were meant to make it,” Ashton says again. “Everyone thought we would make it.”

“We’re not small-town trash, Ashton. Only small-town trash marry their high school sweethearts.”

“Is that all we were?”

Michael sighs. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t know what to do, now.”

“You just do what you were doing before,” Michael says, like it’s easy. Michael always makes everything sound so damn easy.

“I can’t, and I don’t think you can, either.”

“Ashton—”

“You were all of my plans,” Ashton says, and he knows that it’s a mistake before he even says it, but he says it anyways.

“You’ll find new plans,” Michael says, but at least he sounds a bit sad about it.

“I hate you,” Ashton says, voice wavering.

“I deserve it,” Michael answers, steadily.

“You do,” Ashton says, then he hangs up. He throws his phone down on the floor and buries his face into his pillow. He immediately has the urge to call Michael right back, beg for another chance. He resists it.

They drive over an hour to the nearest movie theatre for their first real date, and they do take the truck.

Ashton is sixteen, and he doesn’t know how it took them this long to figure things out.

Ashton insists on buying the movie tickets, and Michael insists on buying the popcorn, and Ashton insists on sitting in the back of the theatre.

Michael laughs, obnoxious as Ashton leads him up the stairs. “What is this? Are you going to try to feel me up, or something?”

“If I wanted to feel you up, we would have just stayed home, hung out in my basement.”

They pass a mom with two kids, who shoots them a glare. Ashton smiles apologetically, Michael ignores them.

“Haven’t you watched the teen movies, Ashton? The back of the movie theatre is for making out and getting to second base.”

“There will be no making out,” Ashton says as they reach the top row and shuffle down. “I want to watch the movie, that’s why I picked it.”

“Not even a little making out?” Michael whines, only mostly joking.

“Maybe during the credits,” Ashton says.

They sit and Michael starts shovelling popcorn into his mouth immediately. Ashton would normally bug him, take away the popcorn and tell him to wait for the movie, but he’s endeared, so he just smiles fondly.

“Stop that,” Michael says, mouth full.

“What?”

“Staring at me.”

“No,” Ashton says. “We’re on a date.”

“I’m regretting it more and more every minute.”

The previews start before Ashton can think up a clever retort, and the previews are Michael’s favourite part of going to the movies, so they fall into a practiced silence. After every single trailer, Michael leans over and whispers some variation of “That one looks good, we should go see it when it comes out.”

Ashton agrees every time, even though he knows that they won’t.

Ashton’s only been back at school for a couple of days when he comes back to his dorm room after class and finds Michael on his bed, scrolling on his phone.

Ashton is eighteen, and he’s not equipped to deal with this. At least, he’s not equipped to deal with it yet.

“What are you doing here?” Ashton asks.

“Hanging out?” Michael says. “Since when have I needed a reason to come see you?”

Ashton stares at him, incredulous. “Since you broke up with me?”

“We’re not going to stop being friends just because we broke up,” Michael says, light and easy.

Ashton stares at him a moment longer. Michael looks up from his phone and sits straighter in Ashton’s bed. “Get out,” Ashton says.

“Really?” Michael asks, hurt, which only angers Ashton further.

“Yep,” Ashton says, sits at his desk and starts to fumble through his drawers, just for somewhere else to look.

“I don’t want to just – not have you in my life,” Michael says. “You’re still my best friend—”

“Michael,” Ashton says, low and even. “I can’t. Not right now.”

Michael sighs, but stands and leaves without saying anything more. Ashton looks up only after the door has slammed shut

Ashton drives them home from their first real date, blasts All Time Low and laughs as Michael screams along.

He’s sixteen, and it’s dark out, and the highway is nearly empty. It feels like it’s just them out in the world, it feels like the night belongs to them.

The thing is, Ashton has always loved Michael. They’ve been best friends as long as he can remember. It’s always been the two of them – everyone else has always been so much further. When they were in kindergarten, they were asked as part of a project who their favourite person was. The other kids mostly said their parents, some said their older siblings. Even then, Ashton had said Michael, had promised that he’d always be his favourite.

Ashton has never loved him as much as he does right now though, in the car, alone, singing to loud music, when Michael is as unapologetically Michael as he’s ever been.

Ashton walks Michael to the door when they get back to his house. They climb the front steps, laugh about the shitty writing from the movie they’d just watched. Michael leans back against the door, but doesn’t open it.

“Is this the part where you kiss me like in a rom-com?” Michael asks.

“I was going to,” Ashton says. “But now I don’t think you deserve it.”

“Ryan Gosling would never say that,” Michael jokes, but it’s a bit softer than normal.

“Are you saying you’d dump me for Ryan Gosling?”

“I might, if you don’t kiss me.”

So, Ashton kisses him, gets one hand on Michael’s waist, the other on the door, by his head. Michael kisses back like he means it, and Ashton’s heart beats hard in his throat.

“Good enough to keep you away from Ryan Gosling?” Ashton asks when he pulls away. Michael breathes a laugh and Ashton can feel it on his lips.

“I’ll have to weigh the pros and cons. I’ll make a list and get back to you.”

Ashton laughs and takes a step back. “Don’t bother, I know I’ll come out on top.”

Michael laughs. “Go home, idiot.”

“Rachel McAdams would never say that,” Ashton says.

“Good thing I picked you over Ryan Gosling, then,” Michael breathes, then pulls Ashton back in by the biceps to kiss again.

Ashton sits on his bare bed, staring at the empty room around him.

He’s eighteen, and his roommate is already gone, and his things are already all packed into his truck. All that’s left to do is leave.

He’s met some of the most interesting people in his life over the past year. He’s made more friends than people he even knew in his hometown. He’s found a house to live in next year. He’s doing well in school, except for his intro lit class, but he can just retake it in a couple of years. It’s been one of the best years in his life.

Ashton unlocks his phone and scrolls down and down through his messenger app to find his text thread with Michael. They haven’t spoken since January, but they haven’t texted since December. Before this year, the longest they’d ever gone without talking was maybe a week, at very most.

The worst part of all of it is that Ashton is starting to believe that Michael may have been right. They were codependent. They spent too much time together and weren’t meeting new people and having new experiences. They were happy, but they weren’t growing.

Ashton misses Michael every moment. He feels the lack of him in his chest, like a stab wound. He so acutely feels it, every minute he’s gone. And he knows that it’s up to him now – he knows that Michael won’t make the first move because when he’s hurt, he hides in himself.

He’s not ready. He still loves Michael and he still doesn’t know how to live without him and he still hasn’t figured out what his future might look like on his own. He isn’t ready because he needs Michael, but he has to be ready, because he needs Michael.

Ashton clicks through to Michael’s contact and presses call.

“Hey,” Michael answers, like nothing has happened. “What’s up.”

“Just—” Ashton clears his throat. “Getting ready to head home.”

“Tell your family I say hi when you get there,” Michael says. Ashton takes a deep breath.

“Are you going home for the summer?”

“No,” Michael says. “I’m going to stay with my grandparents.”

Michael’s grandparents live in Florida, and Ashton knows better than to ask why Michael’s spending his summer there. “You should work at Disney World,” Ashton says instead, because he knows it’ll make Michael laugh.

Michael does laugh, but it’s shorter than it should be. “What would I do at Disney World?”

“You’d make a good Disney prince.”

“Sure,” Michael says. They fall silent for a moment, but it’s Michael’s turn to say something, because Ashton made the joke. “Are you in the dorms again in the fall?” Michael asks.

“No, I found some roommates and a house.”

“That sounds good,” Michael says. “Is it far from campus?”

“It’s not too bad,” Ashton says. Another silence looms, and Ashton decides that it’s enough for today. “I should probably go.”

“Have a good drive,” Michael says.

“Have a good time in Florida,” Ashton says, then he hangs up. He stares at Michael’s contact in his phone until the screen times out to black.

Ashton and Michael are sitting in the back of Ashton’s truck, eating potato chips and listening to the radio on low.

Ashton is eighteen, and Michael is seventeen. They graduated high school only hours ago, and they skipped the class party to sit in a truck in the middle of nowhere, and Ashton’s never felt so right about anything.

“Next year,” Ashton says. “We’re going to have the best year of our lives.”

Michael snorts. “Why do you think that?”

“I just feel it,” Ashton says, and Michael laughs.

“You’re a nostalgic fool. You’re buying into all of the _this is the start of the rest of your life_ bullshit. Want me to play _Time of Your Life_ so you can cry it out?”

“Shut up,” Ashton laughs. “Is it a crime to be a little optimistic?”

“Yes,” Michael teases.

“Well, too bad.” Ashton takes the bag of potato chips and sets it aside, ignoring Michael’s whine in protest. “We’re getting out of this town together. It’s really happening.”

“We’re still stuck here all summer,” Michael reminds him.

“Why do I even bother?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Michael grins. Ashton rolls his eyes, but leans forward to press their lips together.

“Michael,” Ashton says. “I know it’s a cliché, but this really is the start of the rest of our lives. We’re going to do everything we always said we would.”

“Go to a big college,” Michael says indulgently.

“Be really good at it.”

“Get cool city jobs,” Michael adds.

“Be cool city people,” Ashton says.

“You’ll never be a cool city person,” Michael laughs, too soft. “You love trucks too much.”

“And you have a country drawl.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

Michael shakes his head fondly, and Ashton feels the brightness in his own eyes. “I love you,” Michael says. “We’re doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Life,” Michael laughs. He reaches around Ashton for the potato chips, and Ashton catches him and pulls him into his lap instead.

Ashton is waiting outside of Michael’s dorm, sat on the floor.

He’s nineteen, and Michael’s new roommate, a loud sports guy, is in the room. Ashton doesn’t want to do this with an audience, but he’s only a few days into the school year and he’s already decided that he can’t handle another term like spring.

Michael finally comes back, and isn’t surprised to find Ashton.

“I have to say something,” Ashton says quickly. “Because, back in December, you got to say things, but I didn’t, and I need to.”

“Okay,” Michael says.

“I—” Ashton starts, then hesitates. They’ve talked on the phone a bit over the summer, and Ashton has spent a lot of time thinking about the things he wishes he could say. Now, though, there’s only one thing that matters. “I want you to go back to being my best friend.”

“You never stopped being mine,” Michael shrugs. He glances wearily at his dorm room door, then back at Ashton. “Want to go hang out somewhere else?”

“Sure,” Ashton says. “Want to come see my house?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Just let me grab a few things.”

Michael disappears into his room and Ashton leans against the wall while he waits. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take to be over Michael, because right now, he’s almost positive that he isn’t. He thinks that things will be alright, though. Michael has always been his favourite person, and despite everything, he still is.


End file.
